Sherlock Holmes' Smart Side
by High-Functioning Sociopath SH
Summary: Claire and Sherlock are forced to start over, but Claire is seeing a new side of Sherlock- a bad side. Sarah and John await their new baby, but John ends up looking after Claire instead of Sarah. With a new enemy running around London and Italy , Sherlock needs to use all his smarts to stay on top of the world.  Sequal to Sherlock Holmes' Soft Side
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: The sequel to Sherlock Holmes' Soft Side is here! If you haven't read that, I don't suggest reading this yet. It's based heavily on the first book. **

June Moriarty sauntered around the house, heading in one direction but not afraid to wander. It was her house now, and she wanted to make sure everything was in working order. The dead flowers in the hall, the empty room with such perfect light as for a sun bed and the chipped wood on the staircase. She reached the office, her destination, and clucked her tongue when she saw the state of the room. Her father had always neat when it came to work, but the planning stages were disjointed and confusing. June walked in to the room that had previously been banned, no remorse towards her father's belongings as other, more emotional, people would be. Her father was dead. It was done. If anything, June felt pride at overtaking her father. Stupid boy playing with tools he didn't use properly. June would fix that. She walked to the desk, where a pile of instructions were left out. Not for her, but for Sherlock, the draft instructions for the final battle. Her father's final battle, anyway. She read over them and sighed. If father had put caging in the bottom of Sherlock's cage and disappeared from his own, Sherlock would have died and he survived. An idiot, with all his power. June didn't make such stupid mistakes. Besides, she had bigger fish to fry. Much, much bigger fish.

Everyone was there. Everyone who was everyone. There was Sherlock, John, Sarah and Mrs. Hudson, the residents of Baker Street. There was Claire's friends, Jess, Julie, Fran and Fran's boyfriend, Greg, who would have come anyway with the police group of Anderson and Donovan. They all stood around the sleeping figure, watching her eyelids. Claire had shown signs of waking up, and news had spread fast among the group due to Sherlock sending a text to everyone. They arrived as soon as possible, waiting to see what happened to Claire.

Claire's eyelids shook as she fought against them, pushing them up. Her eyes looked around the room, taking in her surroundings.

"What... am I doing here?" She asked softly

"Claire" Sherlock cried, wrapping his arms around her "Claire, I'm so glad you're ok" The people around the room moved closer, wanting to see Claire. To everyone's surprise, Claire started sobbing.

"Claire, what's wrong?" John asked, thinking maybe Sherlock was hurting her in his embrace. Similar thoughts went through Sherlock's mind, and he jumped back. Claire looked at the man that had embraced her, and the man behind him, and the others in the room.

"I-I'm sorry" She sobbed "But I d-don't know any of you"

"What do you mean?" Sherlock asked "Claire, it's Sherlock, it's me. Claire!" Sherlock yelled, holding onto her

"Sherlock" John said, putting a hand on his shoulder

"What's wrong with her, John? Why can't she remember me?" Sherlock asked. John pulled Sherlock away "John, what are you doing? I need to be with Claire! John!" Sherlock yelled, trying to break free. Lestrade and Anderson helped pull Sherlock out of the room.

"Fran" Claire said happily "Jess, Julie" She said. They came forward to her bed. "What happened?"

"You hit your head, sweetie" Julie said softly

"You've forgotten things" Fran said gently

"John, what are you doing!" Sherlock shouted, as the men dragged Sherlock out of the hospital "Let me go!"

"Sherlock, you need to leave her for a while" John said

"But why?" Sherlock asked. For once, he was confused.

"Claire's suffering memory loss. She can't remember things. You being there scares her, because she doesn't know you" John explained gently

"But I need to be there!" Sherlock yelled

"Calm down Sherlock" Lestrade said comfortingly

"Stop treating me like I'm insane!" Sherlock raged at them

"We know you're not insane" Anderson said. His sarcastic words comforted Sherlock more than the soft voices of John and Lestrade

"Will she ever remember me?" Sherlock asked quietly, almost a whisper

"We don't know" John admitted. Sherlock nodded and walked peacefully out of the hospital.

"What's the last thing you remember, honey?" Sarah asked Claire

"Err... that night we went out to a party and the lights went out" Claire said. The girls nodded. That was about a month before she met Sherlock.

"A lot has happened since then" Sarah said

"I know. You're pregnant, for one" Claire said. Sarah half-smiled. "Who's the father?"

"Remember the guy from work I was dating?" Sarah asked, testing Claire at the same time

"Josh?" Claire tried

"John" Sarah corrected

"Yea, I remember you telling me about him. I didn't know it was serious, though" Claire admitted

"Like I said, a lot has changed" Sarah said. Silence filled the room.

"Who was the man?" Claire asked eventually

"Which man?" Jess asked, playing innocent

"The man who was here. The one they took away" Claire answered. She needed answers.

"That's Sherlock" Jess said simply

"How does he know me?" Claire asked

"I introduced you" Sarah said "He's a friend of John's"

"How close were – are- we?" Claire asked, not sure on the correct tense.

"You're not a virgin anymore" Julie explained. Claire's eyes went wide.

"Wow" She said

"Yea"

"Tell me more about him" Claire asked

"He's the most arrogant guy you'll ever meet" Sarah started

"He's a consulting detective" Jess added

"What's that?" Claire asked

"When the police are out of their depth, which is always, they consult him" The girls chorused.

"Smart?"

"Unbelievably. He can see information from little things we can't see. It's easy when he explains it, but god it's hard before he does" Sarah said

"I can't see myself getting on too well with him" Claire admitted

"Well you did" Sarah encouraged

"You helped him investigate the crimes" Jess added

"It sounds like I was being used, to be honest" Claire admitted sadly

"He really cared about you" Julie said "He even sang to you in an airport"

"I sing to you guys at home, it's not that big" Claire said

"He sang over the loudspeaker" Fran explained

"Wow" Claire said

"Indeed"

"How did I end up here?" Claire asked

"Sherlock's nemesis, Moriarty" Sarah explained

"Who's Moriarty? Should I be scared?" Claire asked

"He's dead. Sherlock killed him" Jess said

"Sherlock's a murderer!" Claire exclaimed

"You are too" Julie said. Fran kicked her foot

"I _killed_ someone?" Claire asked

"You thought he was Moriarty" Sarah explained

"My lord" Claire muttered "I don't think I want to go back to that life at all"

"You will when you remember" Fran promised

"But what if I don't remember?"

A/N: Might not update for a while, sorry guys, but I will when I get the chance- promise :)


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock wasn't cold anymore. He wasn't icy and blocked off. On the contrary, he was telling everyone in earshot all of his emotions. He was mad, raging, and although it made him worse to live with, John was glad his emotions had changed. Sometimes.

"How can she not remember me!" Sherlock yelled

"Moriarty smashed her head pretty hard" John explained

"But how can anyone forget _me_!" Sherlock raged

"That is a mystery" John admitted

"How could she remember everything until _one month_ before she met me!"

"Bad luck"

"It's terrible! I want to talk to her, and none of you will let me!"

"Because you scare her"

"How do I _scare_ her!"

"Because you're something she doesn't understand. Besides, the girls didn't explain you in the best light"

"_Now_ you tell me!"

"They tried"

"Did they tell her about the airport?"

"Yes"

"So why does she fear me?"  
>"Because they also mentioned how you kill people"<p>

"Only when I have to!"  
>"All the same, she isn't exactly impressed"<p>

"Well how can I convince her if I can't see her?"

"You can't. That's the point. You need to let her remember in her own time"

"How long will that take?"  
>"We don't know"<p>

"Urghh! How come nobody knows anything!"

"We're trying, Sherlock"

"That's what Lestrade says on a case that he can't solve"

"Sherlock"

"Why can't I try and help?"  
>"Because you're not a helpful person"<p>

"Oh, geez, thanks"

"It's true! You can't even eat by yourself"

"I can too!"  
>"But you don't"<p>

"That's not the point"

"Yes, it is"

"I want to help her"

"We're not sure your method of helping would be beneficial at the moment"

"When will it be beneficial?"  
>"When she remembers"<p>

"I can't help her when she's fixed!"

"Sherlock, she's not broken"

"Yes she is! And you won't let me fix her!"

"She's fine"

"Then how come she can't remember me?"

"Because she hit her head"

"And broke"

"She's not broken, Sherlock. She's perfectly fine"

"How can you _say_ that!"  
>"Ok, so she's not fine.."<p>

"Exactly! And I want to help her get better"

"What do you think you're going to do to help?"

"I don't know. I'll think of something"

"We know what's best, Sherlock"

"How can you be sure? You're not sure on anything else!"

"Sherlock, we know it must be hard for you..."

"How can you possibly know that? Sarah's right downstairs!" Sherlock roared, stamping out of the flat

"Sherlock! Where are you going?" John called

"I don't know. Isn't that what you always say?" Sherlock yelled, slamming the door. John flipped open his phone and rang speed dial

"We already know, John" Mycroft said

"Ok. Keep an eye on him, he's..."

"He's mad, we know. I've got someone following him now"

"Ok. Bye then"

"Bye" John sighed and climbed down to his own flat. Sarah was resting on the couch. She was six and a half months pregnant, and didn't do much but lounge around the house- at John's request. She was resting, but she wasn't asleep. John came down and sat on the floor beside her. He yawned and rested his head on the couch, and fell asleep before he realised he was exhausted.

Claire sat across from Dr. French. She seemed nice, and Claire tried to do as she said, but it hurt her brain to think so hard, and it hurt her heart to know it was in vain. She didn't remember anything more. It annoyed her. She wanted to remember. She really wanted to remember this strange man, this Sherlock. She wanted to remember what happened. But she couldn't.

"Do you want to take a break?" Dr. French suggested. Claire wanted to keep going, but she needed the break

"Ok" She said, defeated

"It can take you a while to remember things, Claire"

"I know. But I don't want to wait a while"

"Patience" Dr. French said. Claire nodded.

"How long do we keep trying?" Claire asked eventually

"What do you mean?"  
>"Before we give up"<p>

"We don't usually give up. But it's only after scans and checks and confirmation that you definitely cannot remember"

"Around how long?"

"That depends"

"On what?"

"On how badly affected you are." Dr. French sighed and then continued. "We think you have retrograde amnesia. Do you know what that is?" Claire shook her head "It's when you forget things prior to the accident. You seem to have lost quite a few months. It may take a while for those memories to come back, and they most likely won't be in order. You may remember something from two months ago, and then something from two weeks before, and the something from three months ago. It's completely random. It will slowly come back. You have to be patient"

"Is there any chance I won't recover?"

"It's a slow process. It could take two hundred years, but you wouldn't be around long enough to know"

"So there is a chance"

"There's always a chance. But you're injury was relatively minor, so you should recover pretty quickly"

"Is it always good to remember? Will it be bad if I don't remember?"

"It won't affect you physically, but it's hard for you emotionally, and it's hard for the people who you've forgotten. I don't suggest it in your case. You don't seem to have anything traumatic to avoid"

"I'm not so sure"

Sherlock snuck past John. He knew John had tried to stay up, but Sherlock could go without sleep easily, and John, well, John couldn't. Sherlock closed the door and crept onto the street. He hailed a taxi to the hospital, and stepped out. He went inside to reception.

"I'm here to see Claire Hofcraft" Sherlock told the receptionist

"Visiting hours are over, sir, I suggest you come back tomorrow" The receptionist said

"I _need_ to see her" Sherlock encouraged

"I'm very sorry, sir"

"Look, I have clearance to get everywhere I need to. Can I just go through for one second?"

"If you can show me that clearance, I'll let you through" The receptionist said. Sherlock reached into his pocket and showed the girl John's all access pass

"Alright, Doctor Watson, she's in room 223, down the hall and on your left"

"Thank you" Sherlock said, walking down along the hall. John was just all too easy to pickpocket.


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock entered the room quietly. He didn't doubt his actions as some would. He was confident he was right.

"Claire?" He said gently. The lights were out, but he sensed Claire was not asleep.

"Who is it?" She asked, turning on the lamp by the medical bed. She stifled a scream when she saw him.

"I just want to talk to you" Sherlock said gently

"How did you get in here?"  
>"I used John's all access pass" Sherlock admitted. Why should he bother lying?<p>

"So you're a thief too" She accused

"At times" He admitted. He was his sarcastic self already. Claire sat up in the bed and Sherlock sat down on the only chair in the room beside her

"Are you armed?" She asked

"Yes" he answered honestly

"How comforting" She said sarcastically

"I'm always armed. I need to be as a part of my job" Sherlock explained "And I'm not here to be comforting"

"I need to be comforted!" She pointed out to him

"Normal emotive procedure- far too boring for me"

"You're kidding. You don't care about emotions at all." Claire asked. Sherlock face changed to thinking

"I do sometimes. Just not often. I avoid it when I can"

"That's insane"  
>"I'm not insane"<p>

"Are you sure?" Claire challenged

"Of course. I can tell a crazy person when I see one"

"What else can you do?" Claire asked curiously

"I read people" Sherlock explained

"Like a psychic?" Claire asked, and Sherlock shook his head quickly

"No, most certainly not. I use surroundings, facial movement, scars, anything I can"

"Read me then" Claire said with a sly smile

"There's nothing to tell. Everything I could tell you about yourself is obvious from where you are and the injuries you sustained"

"So you're not that good then?" Claire said sneakily

"On the contrary, I'm exceptionally good" Sherlock said

"You've yet to prove that to me" Claire said in a bored voice

"I will, just you wait" Sherlock promised, leaning his head on his arm which was propped on the armrest

"What happened to me? Everyone keeps saying some Morarty guy bashed my head in, but I don't remember a thing"

"Moriarty" Sherlock corrected

"Yes, him" Claire said impatiently

"He was the leader of a crime ring. If you wanted something criminal done, you went to him. He'd set you up for a part of the profit. He'd make sure things went off without a hitch. But he became fascinated with me, and started playing games. People were tied to bombs and I was given a time limit to solve a crime to save them. Eventually, he wanted to play one final game with me before he moved onto my brother. There was a large battle, guns and weapons, in a field. We were captives in a cage connected to Moriarty's. We tipped the cage, and got out, we fought, he got to you and punched you and hit your head into one of the bars of the cage"

"And he's dead?" Claire asked for confirmation

"I didn't let him live long after that" Sherlock confirmed. Claire took a deep breath of relief. "Can you answer one of my questions now?" Sherlock asked patiently. Claire nodded. "Do you remember _anything_? A small snippet?" Sherlock asked desperately

"I'm sorry. I don't remember anything. Dr. French said my memory will come back in bits and pieces, not in order. I just have to be patient"

"Baker Street? Mrs. Hudson? Mycroft? Anderson, Donovan or Lestrade? John?"

"I don't remember any of them" Claire said sadly. She dropped her head in regret.

"It's your turn" Sherlock prompted

"What do you mean?" She asked

"It's your turn to ask a question" Sherlock urged

"Oh." She said. She thought for a minute. "What happened with Sarah and John?"

"John knocked up Sarah. They got married. You were the maid of honour" Sherlock explained briefly. Claire's head snapped up, and her eyes went wide.

"I remember Sarah's dress" She said suddenly. Sherlock's face lit up.

"That's good. Can you remember anything else? The flowers, they were everywhere...?" Sherlock asked anxiously

"Pink. All I remember about the flowers is pink. And that's it. I can't remember anything more" She said sadly

"You did really well. You just have to start piecing together the puzzle" Sherlock said, emphasising puzzle. Claire didn't react to it. Sherlock sighed mentally. It was worth a try.

"It's your turn now" She said. Sherlock didn't take long to cycle through the options and pick one

"What do you know of me? I've heard you only know the bad things about me" He asked curiously

"I've heard about the airport, that you've killed people, that you're a Consulting Detective, I've heard that we had sex" She said, going through what she knew in her head. Sherlock subconsciously realised her short-term memory was fairly good, and he was glad about that.

"I hope I didn't cause Moriarty too much trouble coming up with a new nickname for me" He added

"What do you mean?" Claire said, confused as she was cut off from her thoughts.

"Well he could hardly call me the virgin anymore, could he?" Sherlock explained

"You were a virgin?" Claire said, surprised

"My job is my life. Other things clog my mind." He explained

"So how did I come in?" Claire asked

"You became my assistant" Sherlock explained

"What did I do?" Claire asked

"You helped me figure things out. You were very helpful on numerous occasions" Sherlock complimented her

"I was?"  
>"Indeed. With you and John combined, we ripped through cases"<p>

"John's with the police too?" Claire asked

"I'm not technically with the police. John's technically just my roommate. Was my roommate" Sherlock explained

"Ahh, I see. Did John move out?"

"He moved into the flat below our- my- the- flat so he and Sarah could live together" Sherlock said, switching between words

"Our?" Claire asked, picking up on Sherlock's first word

"You practically lived at Baker Street" Sherlock admitted sheepishly

"And you should be" John said, coming through the door

"Busted" Claire teased

"I told you to leave her alone" John said

"I told you that was a stupid idea, as many of yours are" Sherlock rebutted.

"How did you even get in here?" John asked

"You're all access pass" Sherlock admitted

"Give me that!" John complained, snatching it out of Sherlock's hands

"You know I'll get it back" Sherlock shrugged

"Now come" John said, tugging on Sherlock's sleeve

"But I'm helping!" Sherlock complained

"Oh really, well let's ask Claire. Claire, is he helping you?" John asked

"Yes. I remember some of your wedding" Claire said proudly. John let go of Sherlock's sleeve

"Well"  
>"I <em>told<em> you" Sherlock said quietly

"Don't get all arrogant with me" John cussed

"Well, it's nice to meet you properly, John" Claire added

"I had hoped I'd be able to meet you differently. You probably have a bad impression of me" John admitted

"I think you'll do fine. I mean, everyone told her I'm a murderer, but she doesn't seem too scared"

"That's so comforting" John said sarcastically

"He's not here to be comforting" Claire added innocently. John looked at her. "That's what he said" She shrugged

"Of course he did" John shook his head.


	4. Chapter 4

"Fine. Fine! I give in. You can stay" John said eventually.

"I don't need your permission" Sherlock said. Mycroft came through the door of the hospital

"Why did I have this bad feeling you would be here?" Mycroft asked Sherlock

"Because you know that I'll get what I want in the end" Sherlock replied

"The real question is why are _you_ here?" Mycroft asked, shifting his attention to John "You said you would help keep him away"

"I tried. He stole the pass you gave me for Christmas and used it to get wherever he wanted"

"Which brings up the point why you didn't give me one in the first place" Sherlock added

"I didn't give you one because when you have one you use it for mischief. You stole it for mischief, and you create mischief with it. We gave clear instructions to leave her alone" Mycroft explained

"I'd like to weigh in here" Claire said, breaking into the circle that had formed near her bed "But I am actually right here, and no one can forbid anyone from seeing me but me. And stop talking about me as if I'm not in the room. I'm right here!"

"That's my girl" Sherlock said, the words leaving his mouth before he realised they weren't suitable anymore. Claire, however, didn't seem to notice, or chose to ignore them.

"And if you could all _please_ leave my room, I'd rather like to get some sleep" She commanded. John and Mycroft filed out of the room. "That includes you too, Sherlock" Claire added. Sherlock shrugged his shoulders and followed his brother and friend out the door. Claire sighed. What kind of life had she created for herself that now, it seemed, she had left?

"How are we going to keep him away from her now?" Mycroft asked John

"He's helping her to remember. I might not like his methods, but perhaps it's the best way to go?"  
>"And how can you stop me, when I've got this?" Sherlock asked, coming up behind them with John's all-access pass in his hands<p>

"Hey! Where did you get... what... how?" John said, feeling into his pocket where the pass had been

"Such limited capabilities, _normal_ people. I thought someone who had been in the army would be harder to pickpocket. Obviously I was wrong"

"Give that back!" John complained. Sherlock handed it over

"I don't know why you bother" Mycroft droned "He'll just take it back off you"

"I'll lock it up in future" John said, his message for both Mycroft and Sherlock

"What, with a code? You think I can't crack a code?" Sherlock mocked

"No- with a key, like the 'normal' person I am"  
>"But then he'll pickpocket the key, do keep up" Mycroft explained. John's face took on a thoughtful pose<p>

"How about a random number? Surely he can't get that"

"He can tell which buttons you pressed by the grease marks you left on the buttons, and it wouldn't take him long after that" Mycroft explained

"I'll wear gloves" John said, exasperated and sarcastic

"That could work" Mycroft said honestly

"I could always _watch_ what numbers you press" Sherlock added

"I barely need the pass anyway; the only time I need to put numbers in is when I'm making the setting"  
>"And I'll see that time, then"<br>"Not if you're out on a case"

"I have cameras throughout the house, you know. I can see everything" Sherlock said

"I thought it was Mycroft that had cameras in this house!" John exclaimed, as the group finally reached the doors of the hospital

"He does. Just I have cameras too" Sherlock explained  
>"Why do <em>you<em> have cameras in your _own flat_?"

"In case someone sneaks into my house when I'm not around and takes something"

"Just so I know, _where_ are these cameras?"  
>"Everywhere"<br>"Even in the bathroom?"  
>"Of course. Crimes can still be committed in the bathroom, John"<p>

"Yes, because my bowel movements are criminal" John said sarcastically

"And on that comment, I leave you both. Do be careful, Sherlock. You have to think about more than yourself for once in your life now" Mycroft said, splitting from the group

"Night Mycroft" John farewelled

"Don't completely waste the government funds before we meet again" Sherlock said, following John

"It'll be weird at Baker Street without Claire" Sherlock said sadly

"It's already weird on Baker Street, you just never notice because you only notice normal things" John commented

Sherlock didn't even try and sleep in the double bed by himself. It seemed too big for just him now, even though he'd slept alone all his life. Instead, he lay on his couch until he could be drawn into sleep.

John worried about Sherlock, but his concerns lay with Sarah. He'd had trouble dealing with both Sarah and Sherlock- he wanted to stick by Sarah in her pregnancy, but wanted to assist Sherlock in his problem. All too often Sherlock seemed to win, and he knew he would have to spend more time with Sarah or he would never forgive himself. This caused him trouble falling asleep, but when he managed his sleep was deep and restful.

June Moriarty was plotting her next move. She had so many brilliant plans circling her head, but to pick and plan just one was proving a problem. She wanted something powerful to show she was even more powerful than her father, but not so magnificent as to never be topped. She needed something personal, something dramatic, and most importantly, something that would stir up as much trouble as physically possible. She's gained strong connections with allies, and joined with previous enemies. She made the Moriarty Empire stronger than ever before, and now she was ready to watch as the world fell to pieces in her outstretched hand. She was ready to take on the 'big boys' her father never let her meet- She was ready for Sherlock Holmes.


	5. Chapter 5

Sherlock woke uncomfortably, not having slept well. He pulled himself out of bed and showered. He made a piece of toast, but only ate half. As usual, he wasn't hungry.

He tried to write some music, but whenever he got into a nice flow he realised he was playing a song he knew. He tried for a while, occasionally stopping to strum the strings of his violin, until he realised he was playing 'like only a woman can', and he placed it down.

Sherlock decided he'd try and pay some bills. Without John or Claire in his flat, he'd been forced to partake in domestic chores. He'd walked down, only to find the shops weren't open yet, and being forced to walk back home. He sat around his apartment, listening to every sound he heard, figuring out what was happening. John was buttering toast. Sarah was digging into a bag of something- probably a packet of Walkers. She's been digging into the chips constantly throughout her pregnancy. John grabbing his coat, kissing Sarah, heading off to work. John leaving the apartment, Mrs. Hudson's reminder to check on Claire. Sherlock sighed. Why did everyone want to check up on her? Why didn't they go because they wanted to talk to her?

It came to Sherlock all too quickly. Because she didn't know them. To her, everyone on Baker Street was a stranger and, in turn, she was a stranger to everyone on Baker Street. She had changed so much in the time he had spent with her; it was hard to connect to her now all that was gone. Even Sarah, her closest friend, was different. She was married, pregnant, and at a different stage of life she had been at.

Sherlock sighed. The house was silent, except for Sarah's waddling through the house. Sherlock pulled himself out of the house again, pulling on his scarf and coat. He left the house, and walked through the streets. They were all too boring. The same people, doing the same menial things. It wouldn't be as bad if he, too, weren't one of them, just a normal spec among the crowd. He payed the bill and returned to Baker Street, more bored then when he had left.

Sherlock lay down on the couch. It was boring. He twisted, facing the cushion. All too soon, he's mapped his way around it, to the extent where he could picture it, every crease, in his mind. He sighed, and rolled over again, facing the room. It gave him the reminder that he should probably clean it. He rolled back around, and got tangled in his coat. Annoyed, he stood up and brushed himself off, hanging his coat and scarf on the rack so he wouldn't have to worry about them again. The crinkling of a packet downstairs got his attention, and he quickly left his flat. He dashed down the stairs, so bored he didn't really care _what_ he was doing, so long as he was doing _something_. He burst in on Sarah's binge eating. She looked up at him, he unknowingly putting an accusing look on his face. Sarah looked up guiltily, like a child with his hand caught in the cookie jar. Silence filled the room, like before, except now it was awkward.

"How are you?" Sherlock asked eventually

"I'm ok" Sarah said. She was honestly uncomfortable with talking to Sherlock. As a general rule he didn't talk to her, especially with so much going through his head, so she was worried as to why he was now.

"How's the baby's room coming along?"  
>"Yea, good" Sarah said, followed by another awkward silence "Look; I've got a pregnancy aerobics class to go to..."<p>

"Really? What do you do there?" Sherlock asked. He wanted to keep talking to Sarah. He didn't have a clue what he'd do once she'd gone.

"Err, just aerobics stuff. Mostly partner stuff" Sarah said. She hadn't expected Sherlock to be at all interested in her pregnancy aerobics class. Was he going to ask her to call it off? To partake in some dangerous chase?

"Who do you partner with? Isn't John at work?" Sherlock asked, after a small thoughtful pause

"Those who don't have partners partner with each other. They only get half the exercises, but it's better than nothing." Another thoughtful pause

"Would you like me to be your partner?" Sherlock asked. Sarah's mouth opened, and she didn't realise to close it for a few minutes.

"You would do that for me?" She asked

"I've got nothing better to do" Sherlock admitted. Sarah nodded. That made slightly more sense  
>"Well, I guess. A partner would be great" Sarah thought for a while "And maybe after, we could go and see Claire" She said, softer and more comforting than before. She knew the strain Claire's memory loss had had on Sherlock<p>

"Yea. Maybe"

Sherlock and Sarah caught a cab home from the hospital. If alone, Sherlock would have walked a while to slow the trip, but with pregnant Sarah he couldn't today. Sherlock ignored the idea of seeing Claire, even though he wanted to so much, and passed it off as mere forgetfulness, but Sarah knew it hurt him to see her.

Sherlock moped around his flat for a while. Sarah usually forgot about him up there, other things clogging her mind, but he'd been so... unlike Sherlock at the hospital, offering to be her partner. She didn't want to forget him again. She'd never really sat down and thought about how he's feeling; just that he _must_ be feeling this because that's how _she_ would feel. Sherlock was different to her. He felt entirely different about the situation. Instead of making him sad, he was angry at everyone for telling him there was nothing he could do, mad at Moriarty for hurting her in the first place, and, although he hated to feel that way, he was angry at Claire for forgetting. It wasn't helping that everyone was moving around him with safety blankets, when what he needed was some sort of normality. Everyone was acting as if someone had died, and it wasn't helping Sherlock at all.

Sarah waddled up the stairs to Sherlock's flat, which wasn't an easy task. Sherlock didn't realise, and was surprised to find her at the door. She meant to stand beside the couch, but Sherlock was quick to move over so she could sit down. They didn't say a word, from when Sarah entered the room to when she sat down. They sat in silence for a while, thinking, before Sarah spoke.

"Are you ok? Really?" Sarah asked him gently

"No" Sherlock admitted "But there's nothing I can do"


	6. Chapter 6

Sarah stayed with Sherlock for a while, but although his message was disheartening, it was true. There was nothing anyone could do.

Everything was normal until that afternoon, when Sherlock received a visit from Lestrade before a call, one of the rarest occurrences in Sherlock/Lestrade history. Sherlock knew instantly it was more than a serial killer.

"He's back" Was all Lestrade said when he entered the room

"No he's not" Sherlock said, annoyed to be interrupted by such tattle tales. John had leapt up the stairs after looking outside at the police cruiser.

"We told you. Did you show Greg the letter?" John asked

"What letter?" Lestrade asked

"You didn't show him the letter!" John yelled

"Moriarty is _not_ back. It was just a coincidence that someone had the initial J.M." Sherlock explained

"Well, now we've got an email from someone who says to be Moriarty, so I need you both now" Lestrade ordered, and the three descended the stairs. Sherlock went to hail a taxi, but Lestrade pulled him into the cab.

"Where's the note?" Sherlock asked

"All over the aerial mainframe" Lestrade complained, bringing his laptop to Sherlock's face. There was a clear message popping up in front of the blinking 'mainframe security breached' screen.

**Let's play a game, Sherlock. I promise it will be fun. You get to watch as something in your name destroys powers above your own. Reminds me a bit of Claire...**

**Moriarty**

"How is Claire, by the way?" Greg asked

"Shut up!" Sherlock barked at him. He didn't want her as some afterthought in peoples mind. Lestrade was shocked and confused, not sure what he'd done to annoy Sherlock.

"He shut down the mainframe; we can't contact the planes to clear them for landing. They only have so much fuel, and we don't have that much time." Lestrade said, avoiding the delicate topic

"Why don't they just take it in turns to land? By seeing?" Sherlock asked

"Have you been outside today, Sherlock? It's almost too foggy to fly" Lestrade explained "Moriarty timed it well"

"Can you reply? To this message?" John asked

"Not that we can see" Lestrade shook his heads

"What kind of planes are we talking here?" John asked

"Only the biggest bloody things in the air" Lestrade said crossly "The Airbus A380"

"What can we do?" John asked

"Nothing, John, that's the point" Sherlock snapped crossly. "How many planes are up there?"

"Three at the moment, another two are coming in, and another two again just took off whom we can't get back in contact with."

"How come there are so many massive planes in the air?" John asked

"Because there is. And that's not the worst of it. There's other planes, smaller, but still massive, planes up there" Lestrade added

"More? More planes?" John asked

"Don't ask stupid questions, John, you make it harder for me to think" Sherlock said. Everyone went silent in the car.

"Can't we guide them down somehow?" Sherlock asked

"Like what? Aim massive lights at the sky? No, Sherlock. Some have practically no fuel left at all. The lowest had twenty minutes left at the time"

"Well what does Moriarty want him to do!" John shouted

"Watch" Sherlock said sadly. There was silence in the police car. "No" Sherlock said suddenly "I'm not watching again"

They were at the airport mere minutes after. Sherlock leapt from the car before it had stopped, and John followed. Unfortunately, they couldn't get through the crowds of people waiting for the planes that weren't taking off, and John could only show his all-access pass to so many people.

"We're never going to get through this" John shouted, trying to be heard by Sherlock even though he was squashed right next to him

"I have an idea" Sherlock said, pushing his way to the emptier sides instead of forward like the rest of the crowd. John diligently followed him.

"Excuse me, all-access here" John called, pushing past the people at the information desk until he'd cut Sherlock to the front of the line. A few people behind him were getting agitated, and other didn't care anymore. Sherlock leant over to grab the microphone, but the lady at the desk glared at him.

"Staff use only" She grumbled

"All-access pass" John said, holding the pass up to the window after finally reaching up to Sherlock. The lady at the desk looked at the pass closely.

"That's not valid here, it's a government pass" She said "Now get to the back of the line like everybody else"

"Surely you can just let me borrow the mike for a mini sec?" Sherlock asked sweetly. The lady just glared at him "For the superstar singer from TV? Remember, I sang over the microphone here?" He asked in a super-sweet voice. The lady's eyes lit up.

"Oh, I remember that! It was so romantic! Look, you can have the mike for a sec, but don't make it too long" She warned him. Sherlock didn't wait for her to finish, and boomed into the mike

"My assistant and I are here with Scotland Yard. Please move out of our way immediately so we can save the people on the planes outside from crashing into the ground" He boomed. There were screams and shouts, but the people squished together even more to let them through. The lady at the desk was shaking with fear.

"Don't worry, I'm here to make sure that doesn't happen" He said calmly to her as he gave her back the microphone. Still shaking, he left her and started off at a sprint down the small break of people, John desperately following behind him.

"He sure as bloody hell knows how to stir up trouble" Anderson complained to Lestrade as they entered to hear Sherlock talking on the microphone

"As long as he fixes it, I can't get too mad" Lestrade explained, pushing his way through the crowd "And you can see _why_ he did it" He added, as he pushed himself past a particularly fat man and got squished between his stomach and the crowd until he could push through "Because _that_ was _disgusting_."


	7. Chapter 7

Sherlock ran to the control towers, John using his pass to get them in.

"Who are you?" Someone asked

"Is that certified clearance?" Another asked, rechecking John's pass

"What are you doing here?"

"No members of the public allowed"

"Will everyone SHUT UP!" Sherlock shouted, and the group quietened to whispers. Sherlock stood there, his hands flowing through the air like he was controlling a touch-screen computer. Eventually he stood up straight, his eyes wide.

"I've got it" He said. He sprinted off out the room, leaving John to follow after him. Sherlock crashed through the doors and descended the stairs two at a time, until he had six steps left, when he grabbed onto the railing and flung himself over it onto the ground.

"Wow" John said under his breath, as he followed Sherlock the long way down the steps. Sherlock was already running, his iPhone 4S in hand. He stopped suddenly, and John was glad he was a fair way behind him or the two would have collided. Sherlock hands were a blur as they typed and selected options on the phone.

"Yes!" He called, triumphant

"What are you doing?" Lestrade asked, finally catching up to them.

"Anderson, why do you have tomato sauce all over you?" John asked

"I bumped into someone eating a sausage" Anderson explained

"Sherlock, what are you doing?" Lestrade asked again

"Texting" Sherlock said

"Texting who?" Lestrade asked

"The people on the plane" Sherlock said

"How did you get there numbers?" Lestrade asked, clearly shocked

"Hacking into brother's system" Sherlock said nonchalantly "I can search either a particular person's phone or people from a particular area's phones. I searched everyone around this landing station, selected the ones in the sky, and sent a group text to them"

"I thought you're not allowed to have your phone on in an aircraft?" John asked

"You're not, but there's usually someone not doing the right thing, especially on the larger planes." Sherlock explained

"Why did no one call someone down here earlier?" Lestrade asked

"Either they weren't warned about this issue, or they didn't think to, or they thought they weren't allowed, or maybe even the person they called wasn't able to do anything" Sherlock explained "There's multiple reasons"

"So what now?" Anderson asked

"We wait for someone to reply" Sherlock said.

"And then what?" Anderson asked

"We get them to the pilot, put them on loudspeaker, and take our end to the people in the air traffic control towers" Sherlock explained

"So simple" Lestrade said, shaking his head

"Don't feel too bad. You couldn't hack into his brother's system" John said

"No. I can get there without hacking it" Lestrade said sadly

"Oh" John said. A beep from Sherlock's phone got the group's attention

"We've got one. They're in one of the Airbus A380, telling them to go to the pilot now..." Sherlock said, pressing send on his message. It was mere seconds before his phone was ringing. Sherlock put it on loudspeaker and showed it to the group.

"Hello?" Lestrade asked

"Hello. Who am I speaking to?" The pilot asked

"Detective Inspector Lestrade" Lestrade said

"Oh thank the holy lord" The pilot said "We can't communicate to air traffic control, and we need clearance to land"

"We're taking you there now" Lestrade said, walking towards the air traffic control towers with Anderson hot on his heels

"What about the ones that don't have any phones on?" John asked Sherlock once Lestrade and Anderson were out of hearing distance.

"I'm hoping the fog will have cleared enough by then to be able to signal it to them by lights" Sherlock explained

"And if it doesn't?" John asked

"I'm thinking about that now" Sherlock said, and John had to drag him to the air traffic control tower as Sherlock went to his mental palace and wouldn't come back out.

"Everyone's safe" Lestrade announced proudly to the reporters "Out team was able to get all the planes down without any damage whatsoever to person or vehicle. We have to offer our greatest thanks to Mr. Sherlock Holmes for his methods at bringing them to safety."

"It seems Sherlock Holmes has once again become the king of the airport, as previously he has been seen singing to his girlfriend at the very same airport" The news reporter said, and the TV screen changed to footage of Sherlock singing to Claire in the airport. Claire turned the TV off with her remote. Maybe it was bad for you after all. Suddenly she regretted her rash actions. She would have liked to have seen Sherlock singing to her. She turned the TV back on, but by the time it restarted she was already too late, and the next article of news was up. She sighed, and leant back on her hospital bed, switching channels. After just a few switches, there was a news update on another channel, proclaiming 'Sherlock Holmes saves major plane crash', with a larger report at six. She looked at the clock- it was five fifty. She'd just have to watch that news instead. There was a knock at the door, and she turned to see Sherlock himself enter.

"Hello Mr. Superhero" She greeted him

"You heard?" Sherlock asked

"Just the news" Claire said, pointing the remote at the TV

"It's much more interesting in real life" Sherlock said "They never say any of the _interesting _stuff on TV"

"What kind of interesting stuff?" Claire asked, sitting up straighter in her bed

"Stuff like I hacked by brother's top-security system" Sherlock said with a smile

"How?" Claire asked

"I already knew the code" He said, screwing up his face "I watched him insert it into the cameras in my house"

"Just another day in the office, I assume?" Claire asked

"It was actually a pretty interesting day. I went with Sarah to an aerobics class, because she didn't have a partner"

"Do you do that often?"

"No, this was my first time"

"Oh." Claire said. There was silence, when the TV proclaimed another update.

"Reports show that killer Moriarty was behind this, although the government recently said that he was dead. In a press conference, Detective Inspector Lestrade didn't have much to say" The news lady said. The screen changed to Lestrade in front of a microphone.

"I have no comment to make on Moriarty's possible involvement" He said

"Shit, shit, shit" Sherlock said, pulling out his mobile. He hacked into Mycroft's security, got into the mass mobile section and sent a group email to everyone in the press conference room.

**Jim Moriarty is dead. Investigations are undergoing possible copy-cat Moriarty. There is no need for panic**

"What did you just do?" Claire asked

"I told the reporters there is no need to worry about Moriarty."

"Wait... isn't Moriarty the guy who you killed?"

"Yes"

"Then how is he making planes almost crash?" Claire asked slowly, the fear in her voice making her voice rise as she spoke.

"It's not him. I don't know who it is, but it's not him" Sherlock said confidently.

"Then who is it?" Claire asked

"It was I" Said a new voice from the door, and the two turned to address their new visitor.


	8. Chapter 8

"Who... are you?" Claire said shakily. Sherlock patted the end of her bed in comfort, before standing up and walking over to the lady at the door.

"Who would you be?" Sherlock asked. His tone wasn't soft and sweet, but seductive, with command weaved into the expression.

"Moriarty" The woman said simply, mimicking Sherlock's tone with exact detail. She wasn't threatened by him

"The copy cat" Sherlock stated, but it left room for denial  
>"The original" She challenged<p>

"No you're not" Sherlock said, his lips turning up on his left side into his mischievous, knowing grin.

"No, I'm not" She agreed "But it was worth a try"

"Indeed" Sherlock said. He had to admit, this girl was intriguing. Intriguing and cunning.

"But I am Moriarty" She added. Sherlock stared into her eyes, reading her. She returned the stare without issue.  
>"Ms. Moriarty" Sherlock said, rolling the sound on his tongue "Miss, I presume, for your age?"<p>

"Of course" She said.

"Any other Moriarty sibling I should worry about?" Sherlock asked

"No. Just me" She said, placing a delicate smile on her face, like a shark circling its prey. She raised her eyes in challenge "Now that brother's gone..."

"You killed your brother. Being ignored, were you?" Sherlock tested

"Oh yes, it was so boring. Father tried to get him to focus on the family business" She rolled her eyes "Like he was ever interested in anything other than girls. Not that he ever succeeded, but father tried his best" Hey eyes fluttered to Claire. Claire shrunk back in fear, not realising the lady was relating to her occurrence with Moriarty's son. "Father was actually quite proud of my achievement. I wasn't forgotten then" She gloated.

"As much as it pains me, I must thank you on the brother issue" Sherlock said

"And I must congratulate you on bringing the planes down safely. It was all very boring, what with everything being _normal_ now, instead of havoc and destruction. But a girl can't always win"

"I'll most certainly make it hard for you" Sherlock taunted

"I _desperately _hope you do" She said, the seductiveness in her voice reaching a high "Until next time" She called, walking away

"One last thing, Miss Moriarty" Sherlock called. Moriarty stopped, but didn't turn around. "What is your name?"

"June. June Moriarty" And then she was gone.

Sherlock didn't get back to the apartment until late, and when he did his head was filled with thoughts of June. Sherlock paced around the house, and his footsteps roused the attention of John.

"Something the matter?" John asked

"What is she playing at?" Sherlock asked John, as if he not only knew what he was talking about, but also knew the answer

"What's who playing at?" John asked, but Sherlock just brushed it away

"Taking over her father's job... she's very cunning. A little doubtful of my abilities, but cunning all the same..."

"Who?" John asked again

"Moriarty!" Sherlock cussed at him

"Wait... when did you find out she was a girl?" John asked

"I met her in the hospital"

"You just met Moriarty, and you don't find it of consequence to tell me"

"I'm telling you know!"

"What did she say?"  
>"That's she's here to beat me, blah blah blah, normal evil-woman speech, nothing overly interesting, like 'Just a little heads up, but I set your flat on fire'"<p>

"That's a good thing. I'm _in_ your flat."

"Yes, well, that was just an _example_"

"Would you honestly be amused if you came home to a house in flames?"  
>"Well I wouldn't be <em>bored<em>, now would I?"

"Unbelievable"

"Funny, I thought you would be used to my mentality by now"

"Funny, so did I"

"Back to the topic, her name is June. Hence the JM initials everywhere. That settles that Moriarty is, indeed, dead. And with that, we're finished with this discussion"

"I guess. So how's Claire going?"

"Will people stop doing that?" Sherlock shouted

"Doing what?"  
>"Bringing her up as a side note, as someone you are <em>obliged<em> to mention, like some sick aunt"

"The thing with your life, Sherlock, is that there is always something more important to take up the main note. If you had a social life, the first thing your friends would ask is how Claire is going, but since you have nothing but a work life, they don't"

"I have a social life. You"

"And I also happen to be your work partner. Besides, one person isn't a social life"

"Of course not. I don't understand it, really. When you have one friend, why do you need another? Does that really make it harder to share ideas and opinions, which is the whole point of friendship?"  
>"Just because you don't understand spreading your interesting information is fun, doesn't mean everyone else doesn't either"<p>

"Are you kidding? I don't get to spread my interesting news at all. By the time it's happened, the TV station has already reported it"

"And that's the consequences of being special" John said, walking back towards his flat

"Are you trying to imply there's something wrong with me?" Sherlock called

"No, Sherlock. Of course not" And John shut the door. Sherlock sighed. John was becoming far too sarcastic for his own good.

Claire's head spun with thoughts, but she couldn't remember anything new. It pained her, to be disabled by her memory. It was just as hard as any physical disability. Her nights were restless with thought, and meeting June Moriarty had been no help for her helpless brain. She still knew nothing more about Sherlock except what he had told her and what she had seen on TV. He was a talented singer, she had seen, with no sense of shame. Claire could only imagine how she must have got along with him when there were no barriers between them. But now, with her unable to remember the past they'd had together, it left a wall between them that neither would, or maybe even could, cross.

But maybe she'd try anyway.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait! Tried to make up for it with a mass collection though :) If you have any ideas/suggestions, I'd love to hear them! I know the general path it's heading on, but any ideas can always help weave the web of a terrific story :) Thanks to all readers/reviewers/alerters/subscribers, it really means a lot to me :D


	9. Chapter 9

Lestrade was pissed, and unfortunately for him, not in the drunk way. Even more annoying was the fact the new Moriarty kid was behind it. But most annoying for Lestrade was that he felt he had no control over the case. Moriarty wasn't his division anymore- it was Sherlock's. Lestrade hated that almost as much as the new Moriarty being a girl. He couldn't exactly punch a girl in the gut in a fit of rage, as he would most certainly have done if it was Moriarty Snr. And perhaps worst still, she showed signs of being more of a global problem than a London problem, although this prevented a slight up side- the case may be taken off his hands into a higher-importance organisation. Then again, Lestrade suspected that this wasn't going to happen, what with Sherlock doing such a fine job at expelling issues. And hey, who needed an upper-class organisation when Sherlock could hack into his brother's security, holding equipment that Lestrade didn't even know existed? As Lestrade mused, Sherlock walked into the office, not bothering to knock, as was his normal protocol. Like a cat, Donovan slinked into the office behind him and, throwing the contents of his tea down his throat, Anderson traipsed behind.

"Ok, there's been two crimes with Sherlock's name all over them" Lestrade said simply "And it's been handed to us to handle"

"Are you sure there are no other Sherlock's in London? Maybe we're doing someone else's work?" Anderson, half serious and half kidding

"Maybe there is, but I doubt there's another Moriarty chasing them" Lestrade said sharply, and Anderson shrunk away slightly, hiding into the shadows of the furniture.

"What's the cases?" Sherlock asked

"One's here in London" Lestrade started

"And the other one?" Donovan butted in. Rebounding off her boss made her feel involved, even if what she said made no difference to the conversation.

"Is in Italy" Lestrade finished

"Italy?" Anderson asked, appearing slightly from his hiding place

"Don't ask stupid questions!" Sherlock snapped. Although he'd never back away from a Moriarty case, Italy would be a big inconvenience for him, and he wasn't too happy about it. He tried to talk to Claire once a day and he didn't want to call her from Italy while she was stuck in a hospital. After a brief note to himself that the doctor really should have omitted her by now, Sherlock sighed and accepted he was going to have to push aside his personal issues for a while. Within a second of snapping at Anderson, Sherlock was focused singularly on the case, and all personal things left his mind.

Sherlock arrived with the crew at the crime scene. Sherlock's mind went into a rhythmic drone- pay for the cab, walk to the tape, go under the tape, walk to the scene, and look. Sherlock took a deep breath and looked. First, he saw what everyone saw- the written message in blood red spray paint, meant to look like blood, but there was no blood in the room. The message was, indeed, meant for him.

**Sherlock**

**I have a test for you. Yes, there are wrong answers. But don't worry darling- they simply tell me how hard I need to play. Don't you cheat now.**

**Moriarty**

The words were sprayed onto a white-board, which was positioned over a body. The body was clean- nothing but a single bullet to the head to tell of a murder- but the body was not _clean_.

"Looks like a poor guy from off the street. Probably without a home. Seems to me he was just at the wrong place at the wrong time" Anderson concluded

"That's disgusting. You're saying Moriarty killed just so she could get Sherlock here?" Lestrade asked

"You're only right on one count, Lestrade- disgusting. Not due to morals, however, but your blatant ignorance of evidence" Sherlock commented

"Enlighten us" Lestrade said, accepting defeat but pissed at the same time.

"He's a drug dealer" Sherlock said simply

"How'd you figure that one out, _genius_?" Anderson asked

"Shut up or get out" Sherlock snapped. Lestrade looked and Anderson and he stepped down. "We can deduce this because although he has needles on him, he has no injection marks as you normally find. He also has the drugs in brightly coloured packages, pink and blue, meaning he's probably going for a teenage market. Made a good profit, by the looks of him. Nice car, probably a decent house to put it in. No wife or fiancé, or at least not one he wants people to know about. He's too pale for me to search for tan marks. This means he either spends a lot of time at home, or a lot of time in dark alleys."

"Wait, how do you know he has a nice car? I mean, if he's so rich, why is he dressed like that?" Lestrade asked

"I can tell because the brand is on the keys in his pocket, and he wears this as a disguise. Teens don't buy drugs from men in suits! They buy drugs from guys that look dodgy so they feel cool."

"Fine. But where's the great big 'bang' out of this? We know who the killer is. We know about the victim. What has this got to do with anything?" Donovan asked

"Not a clue" Sherlock admitted "And that's why it's so important we get to Italy"

John wasn't exactly thrilled with Sherlock going to Italy. Sure, it would get Sherlock off his hands for a few days, and yea, it would distract Sherlock, but with Claire needing support he didn't like that Sherlock was able to up and leave her so quickly. If Claire was to remember something important, it wouldn't exactly be helpful to have Sherlock an ocean away. However, it did give John more time to tend to Sarah, which was something he was grateful for.

Sarah was sulky that Sherlock was going to Italy, half because of hormones and half, as she openly expressed, was because she was jealous.

Mrs. Hudson told Sherlock to bring her back a postcard. Sherlock made a mental note to buy her something nice, and grab Sarah something too. After the case.

Claire didn't find out Sherlock was going to Italy.

A/N: Sorry for the really long wait! I've been focusing on assignments so much recently I haven't had a chance to write down all the ideas in my head. Will try to focus on writing for a bit, because I hate to leave this just sitting here, waiting for me...

If you have any ideas for this book that you would love to see, or just want to tell me what you think, please drop me a review. I really appreciate reader support!


	10. Chapter 10

Claire woke up groggy and bored, and turned over to grab a glass of water. She wiped her hands down her face and blinked a few times. Nope, nothing. Just like yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that...

Claire shook the thought from her mind. She hadn't remembered anything in days, ever since Sherlock came around for the first chat. She rubbed her face again. Claire figured it must be at least Monday, but she hadn't seen Sherlock since Saturday. She shook her head again. It didn't surprise her Sherlock didn't come to visit her every day. She could see she was depressing to him.

Claire gulped down the last of the water and put the glass on the bedside table beside her. She knew she'd have to leave soon, but she didn't really know where to go. She could go back home, back they way it was before. Claire went to get up, when she noticed a small sheet of paper on her bed. Perhaps Sherlock had visited after all.

John looked about the street. He felt almost bad, leaving Sarah alone in the flat, but he needed to get away from her hormonal state for a few minutes, Mrs. Hudson could help her if she needed something, and John had a job to do. John walked through the automatic doors, and they slid quietly behind him. He crossed the passage he'd begun to familiarise himself with. He nodded to the nurse working on the area, and she got up.

"Dr. Watson, may I have a quick word?" She asked

"Look, I'm kind of in a hurry, I just want to..." John started, but she cut him off

"It won't take long" She said. She weaved out of the desk and followed John down the hall. "Claire's taken a turn for the worst" The nurse said

"What do you mean?" John said quickly

"She's started to forget short term things as well" The nurse explained

"But... the doctor said her short-term was fine!" John exclaimed

"You should know too well doctor that sometimes things happen that you can't explain" The nurse said

"What are you suggesting we do with her?" John asked, lowering his voice even though they were the only ones in the hall

"We're taking her to another clinic, specialised in short-term memory loss patients. They'll look after her" The nurse explained

"Will she be ok?" John asked. The nurse shrugged, and the two stopped walking as they reached the door of the room Claire was in.

John opened the door to see Claire sleeping peacefully, and his face drooped. In sleep, he couldn't tell himself that she wasn't the old Claire, the one that remembered, the one that wasn't forgetting everything. He sighed. There was no point in him staying, since she was asleep. He jotted down a quick note.

_Claire_

_Don't know if Sherlock told you, but he's gone to Italy for a few days. _

_John (Sarah's husband)_

He placed the note on her bedside table and walked out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

"We're taking her tomorrow. Perhaps you'd like to be with her...?" The nurse suggested

"Of course, of course. I'll be here tomorrow" John said sadly. He thanked the nurse and walked slowly back down the hall.

**3 hours earlier**

She held the note in her hand, reading over it slowly, and then a second time.

_Claire_

_Sherlock's gone away to Italy for a few days. He does things like that. Thinks there's some big case over there- silly thing he is, always desperate for a case. Seems he's left you all alone in here. Very silly boy._

_Don't worry, someone will come get you in a day or two._

_Everyone here is either working for me or away at a conference for the week, so don't bother calling for help_

_June_

Claire sighed. She stood up and went to the door which was indeed locked. She then walked towards the window- not only closed, but covered in bars. Claire was sure they weren't there yesterday.

"Where's Sherlock when you bloody well need him? Oh, he's off in _Italy_, didn't even bother to say goodbye. Oh, I'm sure the two of us got on _swell_!" Claire shouted at the walls, but no one heard her. She buzzed the button on the wall for emergencies, but nothing happened. It would only buzz to a receptionist who would ignore it because she worked for Moriarty. Claire pressed it a few times, and then violently smashed the button repeatedly. After a few minutes, her hands hurt and her goal to annoy the receptionist would have been thwarted by the receptionist going away. Unlike Claire, she wasn't trapped to a confined space.

**2 hours 20 minutes later**

Claire was ripping the magazines to shreds, taking apart each page, making a square and ripping off the excess, then making paper planes out of them. There was no point- the windows were shut- but it made her feel like she was doing something. Suddenly, a lock turned at the door. Claire gripped her paper plane, preparing it for launch. Two bulky men in doctors coats came in, one holding a syringe. Claire threw the plane, but it went off course and into the wall harmlessly. The two men looked at each other, and then back to Claire.

"Really?" One of them asked. Claire didn't reply, instead throwing another plane which stayed on course, hitting one of the men in the stomach. It bounced off harmlessly. The men started to come forward. Claire got to her feet, preparing to run. One reached out his hand and she placed a kick to his gut, but the other grabbed her leg midway, making her lose her balance. The man dropped her leg as she fell to the floor. She kicked out and hit one of the men's feet, but the other brought out a gun and she stayed eerily still.

"We don't have time for games" He said, grabbing her arm and injecting the needle.

"Why?" Claire asked, her body shutting down because of the needle.

"Your friend wants to see you. Can't have you giving the game away" The man said, but Claire only heard some of it, falling limp in his arms. The men placed her under the sheets of the bed, watching her chest rise and fall, and left the room, leaving no trace behind.

Sherlock wasn't having a very good trip. He loved long, quiet trips, and planes were great for such trips. However, long quiet trips do require quiet, and that wasn't something the police were known for.

"No, no, I can't do a press conference." Pause "I'm in a bloody plane, why do you think?" Lestrade said into his phone, even though the flight attendant kept asking him to turn it off.

"Have you got an 8?" Anderson

"Go fish" Donovan

And of course there were the other passengers- 4 business men, 2 families on holidays, 1 family returning from holidays, 3 single mums, 2 single men and 5 couples, including an elderly pair on a trip.

The biggest problem with families is kids, rustling packets and talking loudly to each other. Sherlock groaned.

"Can you stop doing that? I'm trying to talk to my secretary. Yes, yes, I'll turn it off in a minute" Lestrade said, talking first to Sherlock and then the flight attendant. Sherlock sighed inwardly. If only Claire were here.


	11. Chapter 11

Claire woke up disorientated. She was awake, but she had trouble moving her arms and legs. She struggled with her eyelids. Another note lay in front of her. She groaned inwardly, not having the energy to groan out loud. Claire's energy was growing by the second, and her curiosity gave her the energy to open the note.

_Claire_

_Don't know if Sherlock told you, but he's gone to Italy for a few days. _

_John (Sarah's husband)_

Claire bashed on the emergency button. Maybe she hadn't been out too long...

John was standing next to the nurse, talking about Claire's condition. He had originally been going to go home, but then he realised he didn't know where exactly they were sending Claire, and he felt it his duty as Sherlock wasn't around. They'd been talking for a long time, bringing up sites for rehabilitation hospitals and discussing the kinds of treatment she would be undergoing. Suddenly, a buzz filled the room.

"Look, I've got to go, but you can check out these sites more at home" The receptionist said, walking off. John groaned inwardly. She's been trying to get him to go home for the last hour, but he still wasn't convinced the methods used at the rehabilitation hospital were what Claire needed.

Claire got up, her muscles hurting in protest. Claire had to check. The door was unlocked, and Claire pushed it open, one step closer to freedom. As she looked down the hall, she heard footsteps and hid behind a food trolley. The nurse went to Claire's door and locked it, laughing gently.

"Almost got away, didn't you?" She said to the door. Claire slipped around the food tray, inches away from receptionist. Her feet tread lightly, a skill she could only assume she learnt from her time with Sherlock. She ran gently down the hall, turned corners and followed the arrows to reception, slowly picking up speed. By the time she reached the reception desk she was sprinting, and she crashed into a waiting John.

"John! John, you've got to help me! Moriarty's after me!" Claire cried

"Claire, calm down. You're probably just remembering something that happened before the accident." John said, holding her arms so she couldn't move.

"_June_ Moriarty! John, let go of me! You have to let me out of here before the receptionist comes back! They're all under June's control, and they want to take me somewhere." Claire was crying at this stage.

"Claire, calm down. Take some deep breaths. They're taking you to a rehabilitation hospital" John said

"They injected me with something!" Claire protested

"That's what doctors do sometimes" John said soothingly

"I've forgotten the last few months of my life, but I'm not a moron!" Claire yelled, trying to yank free from John's grasp.

"You've started to forget some short-term things, Claire"

"Like hell I have!"

"That's why you really need to go to the rehabilitation hospital"  
>"So they can inject me with more sedatives!"<p>

"So they can help you remember again"

"I can remember perfectly fine!" Claire yelled. She looked into John's eyes and her mind clicked, sending her brain a message "John Hamish Watson!" John loosened his grip on her in surprise.

"You remembered my name" He said

"And I'll remember more things before I start forgetting; now let me out of here!" Claire cried. The receptionist came around the corner, phone in her hands.

"What do you want me to do now?" Pause "Are you sure everything's ready?" Another pause, shorter than the first "Ok"

John pulled Claire down the hall, running, but they bashed into the two men who drugged Claire, each with a syringe in hand. Before John or Claire could get back up, they'd been injected with sedatives.

"Put them in the van. We're sending them there early" The receptionist said, and the two men dragged Claire and John away.

The police gang and Sherlock walked down the streets.

"I still don't get why Moriarty sent you to Italy" Donovan said

"Just because we're not in London, doesn't mean there's no crime" Sherlock said bluntly

"Why didn't we leave this to the Italian police?" Anderson asked  
>"Because Moriarty is mine" Sherlock said<p>

"Seriously? We're in _Italy_ because the nut-job wants the case?" Donovan questioned

"Look, the sooner we solve this case, the sooner we can get home" Lestrade said

"Do we get to do some shopping or something? Sight-seeing?" Donovan asked

"Focus on the case, can you?" Sherlock said, looking at a map.

"What case? Quite frankly, I don't see the big deal. Two people are dead, and we're flown to _Italy_? It's not like I see any innocent victims, so far just a drug dealer. Someone wanted a bigger market and asked for them to be wiped- I don't see the big real-world problem here." Lestrade said

"What are you saying?" Anderson asked

"But _Moriarty_ put up messages! There's a test somewhere!" Donovan said

"Shut up, everyone!" Sherlock said

"This again" Anderson rolled his eyes and walked off

"Lestrade, I have a very bad feeling" Sherlock said

"What?" Lestrade asked

"Get to the crime scene- I'm going to get a flight back to London"

"London? But we just came from there! You need to look at the crime scene! SHERLOCK!" Lestrade called, but Sherlock had already disappeared into the crowds

"Of course he just runs away" Donovan said

"Come on guys. We need to get to the crime scene" Lestrade said

The scene was basically the same as the first. There was a dead man, shabbily dressed, and a white-board covered in blood-red spray paint. The message was different, however.

**Contattare la polizia britannica e chiedere di Sherlock Holmes.**

**Sherlock, you shouldn't have! Coming all the way here for a message on a wall? What would poor Claire think of that, back home in a London hospital... well, she was... now, where did I put her?**

The first line was in Italian, telling the Italian police to contact the British police. They hadn't bothered to find someone to translate when they heard that some British police were coming, and hence the message remained unknown.

"Crap" Lestrade said

"We should probably get a plane home" Anderson said

"Can we have a little look around?" Donovan asked

"I'm going to London." Lestrade said "I'd highly suggest that you come with"

"This is so sad" Donovan said, following Anderson and Lestrade off the crime scene, despite some confused Italian police asking where they were going. Anderson pulled out his mobile and pulled up a translation app.

"Stiamo tornando a Londra. Questo era un trucco." He said. The police looked worried, but Anderson walked away.

"What did you say to them?" Donovan asked

"We're going back to London. This was a trick. At least, I think that's what I said"

A.N.: Thanks for all your support and reviews! I can guarantee that I will keep writing this fic until it's finished, even if I take ages to publish another chapter. Thanks for reading guys, and once again if you have any ideas, I love inspiration!


	12. Chapter 12

John and Claire sat in the back of a car, ankles and wrists tied. The only thing stopping them from falling over was the seatbelt holding them in. They had been stripped of their phones before entering, and neither of them had guns on their person. A black screen split the car in two, so the two captives couldn't see the front of the car- whether the drivers could see them, however, they couldn't be sure.

"I'm sorry" John told Claire for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"I know!" Claire complained

"Sorry" John said quietly

"Where are we going?" Claire asked

"You'll know soon enough" June taunted. Claire tried to picture her on the seat, using only her memory. She could imagine her, the young blonde spinning her hair around her finger, her royal blue eyes sparkling like sapphires. She was almost a super model, if she was just taller and thinner. Claire wanted to reach out and attack her, but she couldn't move.

"I really don't see this as something I would do regularly. I mean, I have a job!" Claire said to John

"Had a job" John corrected

"What do you mean?" Claire asked

"I forgot to say, Sam asked us if we wouldn't mind politely telling you that you've been fired" John explained. Claire could hear June chuckling in the background

"Why?"

"She said your relief is in more than you are, so she decided to make her full time instead. She really did seem upset, Claire, but you've had to take a lot of time off due to injury"

"Of course. It's just… it was one of the few things that were left from my old life"

"A lot has changed" John agreed. Claire sighed. There was a brief silence.

"Was I brave?" Claire asked

"You've always been brave"

"I don't feel very brave" Claire admitted

"It's easier to explain when Sherlock is here. He- he makes it seem like everything will turn out all right." John attempted to explain

"Everyone puts so much faith into Sherlock but… he's only human" Claire questioned

"Yeah… I suppose it's hard for us to remember that. And I guess, one day, we're going to regret forgetting. Because we always assume Sherlock will save us, but… we can never really be sure."

"But for now, he'll get us out of this mess, am I right?" Claire joked, nudging John. He managed a smirk.

"Yeah, I guess so"

Sherlock stared uneasily out the glass window of the plane. He knew that he should be thinking about how to save everyone, but he wasn't. He was filled with guilt. All the times he had hated other people having Claire as an afterthought, he hadn't remembered her at all. He'd flown over to Italy without giving her as much as a note. He hadn't even asked John to give her a heads up. Nope, he'd just minded his own dandy business…

The night sky was cloudy, and Sherlock liked that. The dark patterns in the clouds were like a notebook for his head, and his thoughts and plans were quickly connected to every squiggle and shape. A map formed on the clouds, and even when he had to turn to tell the flight attendant that he didn't need anything, the map remained where he had left it. As soon as the old patterns floated past the window, newer ones were already at the front, ready to be turned into new notes. The older notes were replaced and, in turn, moved away from the window. Sherlock wiped his face with his hands, and gently rubbed his eyes. He wiped his hair backwards, and in an action accustomed to him he shook his curls. He took a few blinks and looked out the window again. The clouds were finally starting to run out, and much like lyrics finishing at the end of a song, so did his thoughts. His conclusions were made.

"As we're getting close to our destination, we'd appreciate if you would all return your seats to the straight seating position and attach your seatbelts for landing in London. The time here is 2:15 am, if you would like to set your watches," called the flight attendant, her voice echoing through the speaker system. Sherlock rubbed his eyes. He couldn't tell whether he had been asleep or just lost in his thoughts. He stretched and relaxed into his chair, having not adjusted his chair or removed his seatbelt. He rotated his neck, and it cracked gently as it twisted. He blinked a few more times, took a deep breath and went into his frozen composure, feet flat on the floor. Sherlock enjoyed landing. It was jerky, and you could watch as the world outside came closer and closer. He yawned, relaxing his ear. The plane jolted gently against the ground, and Sherlock's determination returned as he remembered the important thing he had to do. He took a deep breath. He had to find Claire. And when he did, he had a big apology to make.

Sherlock stepped off the plane carefully but quickly. There was nothing he could do to speed up a plane, but once he was off the plane- he could go as fast as he liked. And he wanted- _needed_- to go very, very fast.

Although he wasn't the first off the plane, his long legs enforced he was the first one in line for luggage. He didn't even want to bother collecting it, but it had his gun in it so he knew it was in his best interests to do so. Collecting it, he quickly walked straight through customs. His suitcase, a present from his brother a few years ago, would prevent anything from showing up. He kept walking out of customs, but quickly started running. A few guards looked his way, but none could see any reason to waste their time on him. He almost ran into the automatic doors because they couldn't keep up with him. Then he was faced with a dilemma. There weren't very many cabs out this time of night, and the ones that were didn't stay out for long. It would probably take him over twenty minutes to snag one himself. He sighed and pulled out his iPhone. He dialled and waited, but it was a private line so he knew it would be picked up almost instantly.

"Mycroft, can… can you come and pick me up? From the airport?" Sherlock asked. There was a grumble on the other end. "It's an emergency; Claire and John have been captured"

"Yes, I _know_ that, Sherlock. But it would also seem that I am having a bit of trouble finding them. This June knows what she's doing- she's jammed quite a few of our systems" Mycroft answered

"Can you pick me up?" Sherlock asked again

"There's already a car on the way." Mycroft sighed. Sherlock sighed too. Mycroft's sigh turned into a half-hearted chuckle. "Claire's already back in the thick of it"

Sherlock smiled grimly, "It's like she never left."

A/N: I'm sorry I haven't written in a LONG time... I've been busy being human, and this chapter was a real pain in the beginning. I completely re-wrote it because the first version was so terrible. Originally, I wrote it as if Jim was still alive -.- No, not as in a flashback, as in I forgot he was dead. So it's changed A LOT since then!

Because I was almost going to publish such a major error, and because of the many little errors made along the way, I'm looking for a beta. If you're reading this chapter, you're probably a perfect canditate! PM me if you're interested! First in, best dressed... you know, if I get more than one... not likely...

ALSO:

Ok, Claire wants to get/wants to help someone get/ knows someone who has/ knows someone who is getting/ is getting/ has/ is researching/ has a pet that has (just kidding, it's really hard to throw Sherlockians off the scent!) a degree. Now the question I want you guys to help me answer is what is it?

It can be anything, I just want some ideas :) If you have a good one, please let me know in the comments! Thanks!

I think that's just about it. Thanks for your continued support!


	13. Chapter 13

Sherlock sat in a chair facing his brother across the desk. It was a nice chair- undoubtedly very expensive. The desk was nice, too. Expensive. Mahogany, perhaps. Polished regularly. It also happened to be covered in papers and files. Mycroft sifted through the papers to find what he was looking for.

"Sarah said that John went out to visit Claire at the hospital," Mycroft said slowly, "And she hasn't seen him since."

"And her room at the hospital is… vacated?" Sherlock confirmed

"Obviously," Mycroft began, "And it seems that there are some of Moriarty's workers there."

"And this was never noticed before because…?" Sherlock asked

"The normal workers are at a conference, so the people on duty were fill-ins"

"So you will bring up a thorough search of every person I lay eyes on but don't review the people looking after Claire?" Sherlock asked, teeth clenched

"We did our reviews, but I suppose they weren't thorough enough" Mycroft started thinking on this more, but Sherlock bashed his fists against the desk. Although it jolted him back to the conversation, Mycroft didn't jump.

"_How_ are you going to find her?" Sherlock asked

"Perhaps I didn't make myself clear enough Sherlock- our servers are down. My powers are… minimal, at best."

"Thanks for your help" Sherlock spat out, standing up abruptly. Mycroft made to stop him but thought better of it and Sherlock stormed out of the room. The room was blanketed in silence and Mycroft leant his chin on his palm as he pondered his possible options. He remembered Sarah and decided to check up on her. 221 Baker Street was being watched by an agent of his but he wanted to see how Sarah was going emotionally. He dialled her number.

"Hello Sarah," Mycroft said into the phone.

"Mycroft," Sarah replied flatly.

"I just wanted to be sure you're ok. How are you?"

"I'm fine Mycroft. I have a splitting headache, my stomach is a mountain, my husband is captured by a madman, I have a craving for pickles and Toby peed on the carpet. I'm shitting rainbows over here." Sarah remarked in a monotone voice. Mycroft sighed inwardly.

"Would you like me to get you some pickles?" He tried. The line went dead and Mycroft couldn't be bothered to act on the brief conversation.

Sherlock knew June was playing games and so was surprised to see no note at Baker Street. He noticed someone watching Baker Street intently from across the street and realised his brother had kept June at bay. He left via the fire escape but knew this would not hide his location from Mycroft or the spies June almost certainly had following him. He supposed the hospital was the next best place to start looking for clues but was almost certain that it would be a trap. Out of ideas, he considered the pros and cons and walked towards the hospital.

He was surprised to find the place swarming with police, no doubt Mycroft's doing. Instead of trying to convince the police to let him in he circled the building to the room he knew was Claire's. It was on the second story, but the bricks on the wall would supply suitable foot and hand holds. Rubbing his hands together, Sherlock walked towards the wall. He put his hand on the bricks and was about to follow with his feet when a voice called out to him.

"Sherlock, why must you be such a troublesome child? Just use the elevator like everyone else," Mycroft scolded. Sherlock murmured his complaints but complied with the request. In less than a minute the two boys were staring at Claire's room, analysing every object.

"Do you honestly think you would have made it up that wall?" Mycroft questioned, breaking the silence.

"Shut up."

The boys walked towards the small table at the same time and noticed two notes. Mycroft turned to ask a policeman to collect it for data but Sherlock had already grabbed it with his un-gloved hands. Mycroft sighed but moved closer to his brother to read the notes.

"More mind games, it seems," Mycroft said. Sherlock didn't say anything for fear shame would overtake him. "Unfortunately, that's all this is. I haven't seen a clue anywhere. The cameras were turned off and Claire and John's mobiles have been left here without anything to indicate where they are."

"June wants to play some kind of game. I just don't think I fully understand the rules," Sherlock explained.

"She'll show her hand soon enough," Mycroft mused. Sherlock grumbled in response. The waiting game was hardly for him. He turned on his heel and walked out of the hospital for some fresh air. He took a deep breath and decided to catch a cab home. Unfortunately, he had to wait for June to make a mistake.

Sherlock watched the city pass as the first trickles of golden light illuminated the buildings around it. Cabs were coming out and people waking from their beds, getting ready for their boring and continuous lives. Sherlock was almost at Baker Street when he noticed a park nearby. He stopped the taxi and paid his fare before bounding out towards the little patch of greenery in the concrete jungle.

He didn't know how long he sat on the bench before Mycroft arrived, but the sun was high above. Mycroft sat down next to him silently and they pretended to be watching the children play in the park, but really they were trying to read each other. Mycroft gave up first.

"I expected you to be attempting more… progress." Mycroft began

"Well…" Sherlock started, but he hadn't spoken for hours and his voice was coarse. He cleared his throat and started again. "If you, all great and powerful, cannot find her, why should I bother?"

"Be that as it may," Mycroft began, deftly side-stepping the sarcasm, "Usually you _try_ a little. Jot down some notes or evidence or something. Run around in circles and try to tear your hair out. Shoot the walls, something! But this… this is strange. It concerns me, you, doing nothing."

"I gave up. June wouldn't hurt Claire, not really. Destroying Claire has become as enjoyable to her as destroying me. She doesn't want to kill me, not yet. She doesn't want to kill Claire either. I don't even think John was supposed to be there."

"So you're going to leave a confused Claire in June's clutches forever?"

"No, most certainly not," Sherlock said, "But I'm not doing anything until I have evidence."

And then, all of a sudden, his phone rang.

Sherlock didn't bother checking the caller ID before answering- he knew June was listening in.

"June, what do you want?" Sherlock asked, playing bored.

"To give you some clues," June said

"I see patience fails your family," Sherlock replied

"A flaw that also faces you, Sherlock," June said slyly, "Now, I'm on one of these nice red buses travelling around London. Is that enough for you to go on?" June mocked.

"Is Claire with you? And John?" Sherlock confirmed.

"Of course"

"Then what exactly is your goal here? What mental turmoil are you trying to put me under?"

"Oh Sherlock, you are _so_ self-centred!" June accused.

"How so?" Sherlock asked slowly.

"It's not _you_ I'm trying to hurt. I just want to have a chat with Claire. Is that so evil of me?"

"What are you saying to her?" Sherlock asked grimly.

"Everything she needs to know about you." With that, the line went dead, leaving Sherlock staring at his phone.

A/N:  
>Long time no post, I know, I know. I actually have a couple of chapters written up but I want to get someone to look over them before I post. I figured the wait was long enough and that I was better off posting this one as is for now. Thanks to those who have stuck with this story even though it has been a really long time since last post.<p>

I'm hoping to improve on the quality of the writing I produce, but for now I'll be publishing the stuff I've written a while ago.

Thanks all!


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